


better than perfect

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Dates, Fluff, Future Fic, Minor Injuries, cousyfest2k17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 06:06:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10507812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: There's been a change of plans.(Written for the Cousy Fest 2017 - prompt: "first date")





	

She is looking at his hands. She doesn’t know why, except she is fascinated. He is being very careful, unwrapping the sandwiches, very slowly, like doing this gives him a purpose. Maybe he’s nervous and trying to focus on something, a simple task (she does that a lot). He presents the food like he’s unboxing a wonderful gift for her. Daisy knows that once he knew she was going to be okay he dropped off to get the sandwiches at the place they had agreed on and then came back to the plane. He was here when Daisy came around, and she guesses the food - the whole thing really - is Coulson trying to make it up to her.

She shifts in the bed, sitting up so she can eat. She is grateful she can wear her own clothes in the medical area, but she still hates this kind of beds. She’d rather be in her bunk, but realizes this is more practical. In her mind she is replaying the events of today, trying to figure out what she should have done different to avoid getting hurt on the mission, to avoid ending up here, out of commission precisely today of all days. She feels guilty, because she was the one who came up with the idea in the first place (she knows Coulson would have never…)

“I’m sorry we had to delayed our… uh… date,” she says. It’s weird to say the word, but it’s exciting too. She hopes Coulson can hear the excitement in her voice, through the awkwardness.

He gives her a quick smile and goes back to the very delicate process of unwrapping the couple of Cubans like they’re bombs about to detonate. Only she doesn’t think he smiles when he handles bombs, or maybe he does, it’s Coulson, maybe one of those cocky smirks of him, she can imagine him deactivating bombs and smirking, yes.

“If we don’t come to the date, the date will come to us,” he says, finally satisfied that the sandwiches are in the perfect state of unwrapping. He looks up at Daisy and gives the bandage on her arm a look. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh, the arm is nothing,” she says. “What really hurts is the leg.”

She chuckles. Coulson smiles. She can see his teeth. Is this what it feels like to be hanging out with Date Mode Coulson? Because she likes it. He’s all soft edges. He rests his hand on her leg for a moment, not pressing or causing her pain, but like he believes a small moment of touch could give her wounds some comfort.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Daisy shrugs. “I’m not. We saved a lot of lives back there.”

“You did,” Coulson corrects her.

She parts her lips to protest and tell him how much he helped and how she couldn’t do this without him and the team, but his eyebrows stop her. She nods.

“Okay, you have like fifteen minutes of date before my painkillers kick in,” she warns him.

Coulson gives her a kind of amused look, but also kind of _almost_ dirty, like he is pondering what can be done in a date in fifteen minutes. Daisy means to rolls her eyes at his immaturity but instead of that, she blushes.

He hands her a milkshake, still looking amused, but now for different reasons. Date Mode Coulson is kind of a troll, Daisy decides, torn between wanting to tell the world all about it and liking the idea of it being a secret. Like a secret side to him no one else knows. Well, probably a lot of people knows that side of him, he must have date a lot. She doesn’t know why she keeps thinking “a lot” like Coulson is some kind of playboy.

The sandwiches are really great, even if Daisy is not very hungry (which means the wounds she received were worse than she thought, ha) and it makes her regret not being able to do this properly, the date they planned, walk together to the food truck and hang around, enjoy the California night, look at the stars, (hopefully) kiss a lot, be a bit normal and a bit boring. But of course instead of that here they are, having their date in the medical room of the Zephyr 1 and she can barely move from the pain.

They mostly talk about the food, both listing their favorite food truck experiences and bemoaning that the whole scene has become so mainstream (and expensive, Daisy points out). They try each other’s milkshakes (Coulson’s vanilla choice is a little too sweet for her). They slip into work talk a couple of times, but it’s okay, their shared work is their shared passion. It’s not like they have much else, Daisy thinks, but not in a sad way, more in a “look at us two losers” kind of way. Companionship, that’s the word.

Eventually eyelids start getting heavy.

“Let me throw this away,” Coulson says, grabbing the rests of their dinner and going outside the room for a moment.

Daisy fight to keep awake until he comes back. Coulson doesn’t bother sitting down again, he knows it’s a lost cause.

“I’ll let you rest,” he says, pulling back to leave her.

Daisy touches two fingers to his wrist, with difficulty, because the bandage and the drugs are making her movements too slow, but it’s enough to stop him.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” she says. “I promise our _second_ date will go much better.”

Coulson looks at her. All his softness keeps getting softer (maybe it’s the painkillers) and she keeps seeing these new sides to him.

“What are you talking about?” he says. “This date was perfect.”

In back of her mind she is making some gentle joke at him, about how bad his romantic experiences must have been that he considers tonight a success. But she is too tired.

She slides down the bed and closes her eyes.

But she is happy she doesn’t fall asleep before feeling the ghost of a kiss on her cheek.


End file.
